Future City Future City By: Steven Clifford

A past reviving gall lifts up a long skirt: romance climbs legs of blurry connection.
We attend a funeral separately,
and meet at the after party, tears aflame with laughter, dancing

in the fallout of never more. On a bar’s deck,
drenched with exerted loneliness, we tease insanity
as sanity drizzles. Against us,
a lake of the unpredictable rushes daydream-currents.
“I’ll jump, you know,” she threatens, smiling.
“Not on my watch.”
“I’ll protect you.”
A storm ruffles my safe house, thrusting the door open: electricity tangles discomfort.

Uncertainty magnetizes the floor, ratting my roof of
solitary dreaming, caving in, and exposure soaring.

Nervousness collapses; she sits cross-legged, a wilderness of impulse expanding.
waiting for me to get the check. She grafts herself to my arm on a

breathless street,
slivering under our feet.
Over our (traffic zipping, zipping) walking embrace (Traffic zipping, zipping)
traffic lights flash (flash).
A fork: shotgun bliss or passion in dribs and drabs.
We walk on the sidewalk’s edge, traffic a breath away, and scurry across chanciness.

On the other side,
she tells me of a future city, “Will it flourish, crumble or…never be?”

“I’ll build a house there.”
We rub insecurity together, sparking a faint glow outside an abandoned church. A nun
snubs it out before an explosion

devours everything.
Wish I told her how I doubt my future city. I told of a great economy,
dazzling lights, and tall buildings.
I never told her of the boy who sits in a tub on a nameless dirt road awaiting pavement.


Steven Leonardo Clifford is a Long Island native. He has schizoaffective disorder from which he draws his inspiration.

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

One response to “Future City Future City By: Steven Clifford

  1. Linda Washington

    Steven’s work is intensely unique. He has an uncanny knack for moving characters in and out of cityscapes that seem futuristic. His work is brilliant.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s